


Torch Songs

by RobberBaroness



Series: Black Widow [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Espionage, F/M, Fallout Kink Meme, Infidelity, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was going to ensure the safety of New Vegas, no matter whose heart she had to trod on to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"I am a vamp, I am a vamp  
Half woman, half beast  
I bite my men and suck them dry  
And then I bake them in a pie!"_

"Don't see why you sing those songs," said Boone. "Not like you need the money."

The Courier stopped her humming and grinned at him. She wondered if he was finally starting to warm up to her, starting conversations like this; ever since That One Night (a phrase which needed its capital letters,) he'd always been a hard one to figure. Always in the background, close enough to watch for anyone who might hurt her, but never close enough to touch her. Well, except for a few other nights when they both drank a little too much, and he had convinced himself that if she consented this time, that would make it as if the first time had never happened. Maybe it worked for him; she could never really tell afterwards.

"I like to sing. I used to pick up some extra money that way before I became a courier. If Swank is willing to buy me pretty dresses in return for making an occasional guest appearance beside the piano, I'm not going to say no. Honestly, I think he's a little sweet on me."

"Him and half the men you meet."

The Courier adjusted her stockings, making sure the seams were straight (a difficult task to do while balancing on wobbly stiletto heels.)

"Are you implying something about my virtue?"

Boone sighed deeply, clearly at a moral crossroads. If he called her a tramp, or even thought of her that way, it might make things easier. Of course, Boone was never one to make things easier on himself.

"I don't think you're a slut. Just a cocktease."

The Courier laughed at that.

"Damned if I do, damned if I don't. The things men put me through just for being pretty!"

She could have kicked herself as soon as she said the words.

"I didn't mean it like that, Boone-"

"Okay."

"I told you I've forgiven you for your part in it. Benny's dead, you've fulfilled any debt you had to me. You can leave if you want."

Boone shrugged and stayed where he was. She couldn't really blame him- where would he go if he left?

"Well, if you're going to stay, I'd like us to be friends. Do you think we can do that?"

Another shrug. The Courier finished applying her lipstick, as red as her tiny dress and gloves.

"It would be nice if you'd watch me sing tonight. Do you want to?"

"Might as well."

Well, that was a start.


	2. Chapter 2

The Courier wasn't technically an employee of The Tops, and so she didn't perform onstage for the tourists. Rather, after hours they would wheel in an old piano, and wait for most of the guests to retire for the night. Then she would sing, and only for a small handful of guests, people who came in private to talk business with Swank and liked an elegant atmosphere, without the volume of a full brass band orchestra. That small group was getting bigger as the Courier became more of a celebrity, but the setting still felt intimate.

Her friends were already there, sipping their coffees or cocktails, when the Courier arrived with Boone in tow. Veronica was there in her pink silk, and the Courier greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't look so accusing," she told Boone afterwards. "Veronica's a bigger tease than I am."

Sometimes the Courier wondered how many people knew where the songs she sang came from. She'd been privileged enough to grow up in a town where, once in a while, they'd show a pre-war film at a hotel, and had subsequently styled herself to look as much like Lauren Bacall as possible. Still, if her audience didn't recognize the songs, at least that meant that she could sing a song once performed by Marlene Dietrich without being negatively compared.

_"Falling in love again,_  
Never wanted to.  
What am I to do?  
I can't help it!" 

Even as she grew to know the people of the Strip, there would always be business associates of Swank's that she didn't recognize. That was part of the point of conducting business after hours, after all. There was a new man there tonight, though, who seemed content to lean against the wall by the door, not even bothering to find himself a table. What was he there for?

Curious, the Courier's eyes flickered between him and Boone while she sang.

_"Men cluster to me like moths 'round a flame  
And if their wings burn, I know I'm not to blame!"_

When she finished her song, there was the usual small round of applause (Boone didn't move his hands, but nodded his head at her to indicate that he at least didn't disapprove.) Before she could go on to her next number, someone handed her a small card. Just one of The Tops's business cards, but with a message neatly scrawled on the back.

"Mister Fox?" She mouthed the words, puzzled by the unfamiliar name. It might have been the man in the back, or maybe someone else entirely. Nevertheless, she nodded at the waitress who'd handed her the card, silently agreeing to the card's proposed meeting. Whoever he was, she always at least listened to business proposals.

The Courier sat at one of the small tables, while Boone stood across the room, speaking with Veronica about something. She couldn't exactly tell him to get lost (not after she'd invited him to her performance in the first place,) but closely hovering snipers had a tendency to put strangers on edge. Sometimes this was a good thing, but she might at least give this Mister Fox the benefit of the doubt.

When he sat down across from her, the Courier's eyes grew wide.

"If I scream, you're dead!" Her voice was quiet despite her threat, and Fox- or rather Vulpes Inculta, the man she had met so long ago in Nipton- smiled non-threateningly.

"There would be no need. I come with a gift, nothing more."

She raised an eyebrow, and Vulpes produced something gold and circular. Curious, the Courier picked it up and examined it.

"A coin?"

"A mark. Wear it about your neck and you will be granted protection and amnesty by Caesar's Legion. All your crimes forgiven, and all your potential granted a use."

Strange, she thought. Was she really being recruited to an army where she'd only seen men? Did they use women as spies or intelligence, or was it all a trap? Looking even more confused than she really was, the Courier blushed and lowered her lashes.

"I don't know what to say. I'm only a woman, and we haven't been very friendly in the past."

"Women come in many varieties, and you..." Vulpes took her hand, pressing the mark into her palm. "You have surprised us. We do not have to be your enemy, and I think you'll find we can be very valuable friends."

 _I'll bet._ Another strange thing- he kept saying 'we' and 'us', never referring directly to Caesar, who had presumably sent her the gift.

"You might be, at that. I may pay a visit if I can find the time to spare. Thank you, Vulpes."

As he turned to go, she offered him her hand. He went to shake it, but she raised it to his lips. After a moment's pause, the spy touched his lips to her fingers in a quick, dry kiss. The Courier smiled, and moved her hand to his jawline.

"Soft skin, for a soldier."

Vulpes Inculta's expression was enigmatic, but he didn't remove her hand.

"As I said, Courier, you are a surprising woman. I will be waiting for you in the Camp."

Interesting. As he headed for the door, the Courier took another look at the mark, running her index finger over the outline of a bull. Very interesting.


	3. Chapter 3

So now everyone was knocking at her door, the Courier reflected. Both sides of the upcoming war, as well as a third party. Quite frankly, House was the only one who had offered her any real incentive to work for him; both the NCR and the Legion seemed to just assume she would get on her knees and suck their dicks, the NCR because of where she was born and the Legion for no discernible reason. At least the mad old man offered her a luxurious future, and hinted at one for mankind. It would be nice to travel among the stars...

As she made up her mind about how she would proceed, the Courier scribbled a note on a small paper napkin and folded it up inside the box Vulpes had left. Heading over to where Boone had been watching her (at least he'd finally taken off the sunglasses in a room so dark,) she smiled and touched his bare arm.

"I hope you had fun. Thanks for coming to see me."

"Yeah. You're not bad."

"You really know how to flatter a girl, darling. I won't make you stay out any longer if you don't want to. If you do want to, I'll buy you a drink."

Taking him by the arm, they wandered onto the streets of New Vegas, all aglow with electricity and brightly colored paint. The city was still beautiful, no matter how many times she saw it.

"I need you to do something for me, Boone." The Courier did her best to keep her voice light and carefree.

"Okay."

"I have to go somewhere by myself. I know you don't like that, but it's very important."

"You gave me a job. I'm here to protect you. To make up for things."

"I told you I'd forgiven you. And there is something you can do to protect me."

She handed him the small box. Boone looked it over, but said nothing.

"If I don't come back from where I'm going- if I ever go on a mission and stay gone more than a day longer than I should- open that box. It'll tell you what to do. For now, just trust me to know what I'm doing."

At Boone's nod, they resumed their walk down the strip. There was no sign of recognition on his face when the Courier quietly hummed "Someone to Watch Over Me."

***

Caesar was a foul-mouthed old man who joked about killing the Courier in one breath and barked orders at her in another. The fort was austere, with sunburned soldiers lining the limits like wallpaper. The gladiatorial arena wasn't even open to her, not that she'd ever been much good in close combat- they would trust her with the fate of their faction, but not with a simple sport.

Overall, the Courier's trip to Caesar's fort left her unimpressed. Where was the devilish charisma of the slender spy who had extended their information? Where was the villainous seduction she had hoped for?

As a matter of fact, it- or rather, Vulpes Inculta- was waiting for her on the sidelines. He beckoned to her and she followed, entering into a tent with him on the edge of camp.

"You have heard Caesar's will, Courier."

"I have. He wants me to play errand girl, apparently." The Courier bent over, striking a match on her high-heeled shoe. "I'm a little disappointed. When you talked about my potential, I had hoped you meant something greater than pressing buttons and carrying messages."

She lit a cigarette, coyly wrapping her lips around the end. It wasn't a habit she indulged in often, but it was one that made her look mysterious- and one that was surely denied to Vulpes, along with liquor and the touch of another man.

"What Caesar offers you is greater than you imply, Courier. But it is true, there are other ways you can be put to use."

The Courier blew a thin stream of smoke in his face.

"Put to use? I like that. Go on."

Vulpes took her hand with a sudden ferocity, wrenching the cigarette from her and crushing it in his fist. With his other hand he took her by the throat- not choking her, as she initially feared, but simply caressing her long neck.

"You have a lovely voice. A shame to ruin it with smoke."

"Is that all you find lovely about me?"

Vulpes smiled.

"You have a certain charm to you, Courier. I am not the only one to see it. And charm, some might argue, is the Legion's greatest deficiency. We are feared, we are hated, in some quarters even respected- but there are few who love us."

The space between the two of them was getting unbearably small.

"But everyone loves the Courier. With Venus by his side, Mars will be unstoppable."

"Is that how you want me? As a figurehead? A glorified poster girl? What reason do I have to follow you? Why should I think you're man enough for me? What does Mars have to give me that I can't already get?"

The Courier's anger was at once muted and exaggerated, the kind an actress might show when required to play a spitfire. Feisty and defiant, stamping her pretty foot and demanding her way, while the audience waited for a Rhett Butler or a Howard Roark to put her in her place.

As Vulpes' grip turned tight and savage and he mashed his lips against hers, the Courier thought there should have been music swelling in the background.


	4. Chapter 4

"Really, darling," said the Courier to House, stroking a bit of machinery in place of his body, "if I'm going to be working with you, you need to think of me as a partner. You've got to trust me a little."

"I repeat, Caesar is not to be harmed, nor should your efforts concentrate on disabling the Legion."

"You aren't the one out there talking to them, though. We really can't keep them around. The Brotherhood of Steel would be a much better enemy to build up to keep the NCR in place- they hate the Bears, and they're too crazy to be a serious threat against New Vegas."

It was impossible to tell what House's expression might have been; the monitor showed the same handsome, old-fashioned gentleman it always did. A pity, since so much could be told through facial tics and body language. As it was, she'd have to trust in her conversational abilities without backup.

The Courier stretched as if tired.

"I've got to get some sleep, honey. We can talk some more in the morning."

"I wonder, Courier, if I can be entirely sure of your loyalty."

"Don't be silly. You know you're the best sugar daddy a girl could ask for." The Courier put a tune into her voice, an old song Marilyn Monroe had once done in a movie. "My heart belongs to daddy, so I simply mustn't be bad!"

It was true that she was tired. There was no rest for the wicked, nor for the good but guileful. She'd have to hope Boone was already asleep (assuming he did sleep- sometimes she wasn't quite sure.) It would be a pain to have to sneak into her suite, pretend to sleep, then sneak out again within the space of an hour. She'd have to take the chance, and make a good excuse if he caught her.

Getting into the elevator and pulling her Nightstalker stole tight around her shoulders, the Courier pushed the button for the lobby. There was business to conduct, business Boone and Veronica and House wouldn't understand- especially considering who her temporary business partner would be.

The Courier had a date with a fox tonight.

***

Just a discreet slip into one of Gomorrah's hotel rooms and the Courier would be assured of privacy. It was a place where undercover Legionaries were given a wide berth if recognized, and overlooked if unfamiliar. If she was recognized, she had enough on Cachino that he wouldn't try to escalate their war of blackmail if it wasn't absolutely necessary. He was an odd one to manage- she would give him her customary smile and glimpse of cleavage during negotiations, but never let it go farther than that. There are some men you don't try to play, at least not without a poisoned cocktail nearbye.

The Courier's sweet-voiced spy was waiting for her in his room, his sunglasses off for once and his tie looser than before.

"I came as soon as I could. Oh Vulpes, thank you so much for meeting me in the city!"

"An easy matter to arrange, given your preference. Mister Fox has enough business among the profligates that a residence is not out of the question."

The Courier slipped off her stole, revealing her sleeveless (and backless) dress and the curves it hugged.

"I guess I do like it better here. That camp puts me on edge. Shall I fix us drinks?"

"You know I do not-"

"Just for me, then." The Courier went over to the mini-bar the room had come with and made a show of pouring herself a great deal of vodka. Vodka, of course, was colorless, making it all the more easy for her to pour ice water when Vulpes's back was turned.

Returning, she took a large sip and appeared to shudder. Always make your opponent think they have a greater advantage than they do...

"Now then. I know you want me to work for you, but you have to understand my difficulties. The way the soldiers look at me- I even heard some of them talk about trying me out!" Actually, Siri had, but it didn't do to give away allies.

"The talk of soldiers, nothing more. If it upsets you, though, I promise I will cut out the tongue of the next man to speak such things." Vulpes motioned for her to sit beside him, and when she did, he placed his hand gently on her bare thigh. His hands were more calloused than she had expected, but she gave no sign of discomfort. Boone's hands were rough as well- it seemed to be a gunman's trademark.

"Courier. You have heard Caesar tell you what he desires. If you will listen, though, there is more I would have of you."

"Would you?"

"I began to tell you at camp, but we were not truly alone, or not enough for me to speak freely." Vulpes paused, one of the few times she'd ever seen him at a loss for words. Though he recovered his speech shortly, she filed away the mental image for reference. "You know I would give my life for Caesar. Any soldier in the Legion would do the same."

The Courier nodded, and he continued.

"Unless another successor is found, rule of the Legion will pass to Legate Lanius when Caesar dies. Have you heard of him?"

The Courier shuddered.

"Is something the matter?"

"His name was mentioned at the camp. I was told to beware of him." That much was true, making improvisation easier. "They said he'd been following me at a distance since I arrived."

"I did not see him." Vulpes's voice stayed the same, but his grip on her thigh had tightened.

"Perhaps they imagined it, then. I gather you don't like him?"

"A fine warrior. Finer even than myself." Another pause, and Vulpes did not speak until the Courier put her arm about his shoulder. "Unsuited for command of a nation."

"Caesar wouldn't appoint someone like that, would he?"

"He has had little choice. Until now." He looked her in the eye, unblinking. "If a woman may be a doctor or a priestess, perhaps one may become an Empress."

The Courier gasped.

"You don't mean-"

"I do not know. I have done my best to convince Caesar to turn his gaze toward a certain woman, beloved by all the tribes he wishes to join him. A woman already believed by some to have strange powers, rising from the dead when assassins laid her low. The Legion would continue to be a great power, but now with a face to inspire love."

So that's what his game was. A power grab, with her as figurehead. At least he'd put all his cards on the table now, and she wouldn't have to keep guessing. 

"I- I would need to think about that. I've sort of blundered my way through this far, I don't know if I could manage-"

Vulpes shut her up with a kiss. This one took her by surprise, and left her gasping.

"I know you could, Courier. And that is enough."


	5. Chapter 5

Boone was awake she got home, but asked no inconvenient questions. In a way, it was a shame- seeing him sitting by the bed, cleaning his gun for the third time that day, was more depressing than any amount of jealous rage. He didn't give any indication that he'd seen her, and somehow this indifference galled the Courier. She'd invited him to travel with her for a number of reasons (some of which she couldn't clearly articulate,) but acting like a piece of bedroom furniture wasn't one.

"You look lost in thought, Boone."

"Something funny about that?"

She could have made a joke about his intellect and just how lost one could get within it, but that would have been cruel even for a tease. Instead she kicked her heels off and began to wipe off her makeup, conversing with him from a safe distance.

"Nothing's funny. I just wish sometimes that you'd share what you think."

In the mirror, she saw Boone's reflection shrug.

"Nothing you need to know. You don't tell me much, either. I don't even really know who you are."

She turned about to face him.

"I can tell you that. If you really want to know. I was born in Freeside, grew up in New Vegas. No family left to speak of, except a brother I don't talk to. A couple boyfriends, but never anything serious. I always wanted to be a singer, but singing alone wouldn't pay my hotel bills. Being a Courier was an honest job that kept me off my back or my knees, even if it could be tiring. Then one night I got jumped by a group of men. Bound, gagged, pushed into a grave and shot in the head. And when I wake up, I'm suddenly important."

Boone's eyes darted to her forehead, looking at her scar. She wasn't sure if the look he gave her was pitying or not, but at least it wasn't indifferent.

"You know about Bitter Springs?" he asked her.

"I recall you refusing to answer my questions about it in the past."

"Been thinking about it. I want to go back there. You can come if you want."

The Courier crossed over to her sniper- a man who had once held her down and fucked her at gunpoint, a man who followed at her heels in search of forgiveness he wouldn't accept, a man she knew almost as little about as the day she met him. A man who wanted to be strong, but who could be "made" to do bad things, and who never seemed to know what he wanted to do with himself.

"Tomorrow night, Bitter Springs. It's a date."


	6. Chapter 6

An evening with Boone coming up meant the Courier would have to get all her morning work done in a hurry. That meant meeting Vulpes at the camp, which she didn't like- it meant she would have to avoid Caesar at all costs if she didn't want to get hassled about destroying the Securitron bunker. As it happened, the dictator himself was otherwise engaged, but she was found by someone else before she could find her spy. A happy coincidence, since she'd already spoken of him to Vulpes, and an actual meeting could only enhance her stories.

The Legate Lanius stood frighteningly tall and broad, his mask approximating a golden idol. At first she thought he had grabbed her, until she saw he had his arms resting by his side- he was the sort of man who gave the impression of violent contact even if he stood a foot away.

"So it is you whom Caesar believes to be the future of the Legion." His voice sounded as if he had a built-in megaphone, and could probably reach a few octaves lower than the human throat could typically manage. The Courier blushed in feigned humility.

"I guess I am. I can only hope to meet his expectations."

"And what might they be? He has not fitted you with a collar, so it is not your body he desires."

The Courier considered her response carefully. It was damnably hard to read the Legate with his face hidden by a mask- at least the White Gloves had the decency not to cover their entire visage. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw what looked like Vulpes standing at a distance, and knew she didn't have to really read Lanius at all. What mattered was how she appeared, not how he did.

With that in mind, the Courier put on an expression of shock, shaking ever so slightly.

"I won't discuss this if you're going to talk to me like that!"

Before he responded, she turned away and walked briskly toward Vulpes. Fake tears would have been overkill, but as Vulpes took her arm and led her to his tent, she did her best to seem like she was holding them back.

"What did he say to you?" asked Vulpes, his voice not quite as calm as his usual manner.

"It's nothing. He just- oh, I shouldn't bother you about it."

"If we are to replace Lanius as Caesar's successors, we cannot overlook his behaviors. Tell me."

"He- well, you know I'm not exactly innocent, but it was a bit shocking even for me. He made a few...suggestions. Not very tame ones, either. He said-"

The Courier took a deep breath.

"He said that since he could see no other reason why Caesar would invite me here, he assumed I was a gift for him. And he went into some detail about how he intended to use his gift."

Vulpes was silent for a long time. If it hadn't been unthinkable to see the spy lose his composure, the Courier would have sworn she saw him sweat. Finally he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, then pressed her to his chest.

"We won't meet at camp again, then. Not when Lanius is present. I will not have you harmed, I swear it on my life."

She wrapped her arms around him, holding tight to his armor.

"You care for me, Vulpes? We hardly know each other."

"Does it matter?" Another kiss, this time on her neck. The Courier didn't fake the soft moan that escaped her lips at the contact- her neck had always been one of her biggest erogenous zones. Vulpes brushed a strand of hair from her face, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Venus was newborn when the gods warred over her," he continued. "I know you are an incomparable woman, the future of the Legion, and that I desire you as I have never desired another. Why shouldn't I care for you?"

"My soldier," the Courier breathed. It was easy to get carried away in the heat of the moment, but she retained enough presence of mind to pull away when she felt him tug at the strap of her dress.

"What is it? Have I offended in some way?"

The Courier fixed Vulpes with a coy gaze.

"I know what you are, lover. I know women fear you all across the Mojave. You may have had many nubile concubines and slavegirls, but you won't take me to bed as a conquest!"

She tossed her hair in an imperious manner.

"You'll take me to bed as your wife. All that Caesar gives me will be yours, along with my body and heart, and I will have your respect and devotion- but not until then! Are we agreed?"

As Vulpes smiled and kissed her hand, the Courier considered that she'd done quite well in a short time. She could probably even leave camp in time to meet Boone at Bitter Springs!


	7. Chapter 7

That night, the Courier prepared for her trip. Light armor (she didn't plan to encounter anything, but you never know,) red beret (Boone did seem to enjoy her wearing it,) and a hint of makeup (she felt a little naked without it.) She almost didn't notice Boone in the mirror behind her, and by the time she had turned around to face him, he'd already grabbed her.

"Think you could hide it forever?!"

"Hide what-"

Boone slammed her into the mirrored wall, knocking her off her feet.

"Your little Legion visits, that's what! You've been playing both sides, and figured I'm too stupid to notice!"

The Courier desperately gasped for air.

"It's called going undercover, you maniac! I was trying to help!"

"Liar!" His hands were on her again, one on her throat and one gripping her arm. His face was an inch from hers, and she instinctively closed her eyes (as if such a thing could protect her.) "You figure I'm so fucked up over what I did that I can't see straight in front of me! Can't see you throwing yourself at those butchers, can't hear about you worming your way into Caesar's tent! Playing him like you played House and Benny and Colonel Moore and me and who the fuck knows how many others! You've been on their side since day one!"

The Courier opened her eyes and stared right at Boone. The suddenness of her gaze seemed to take him off-guard, and he loosened his grip a little.

"Are you sure about that? Check that note I gave you. In case I didn't come back."

After a moment's pause, Boone let her go. She rubbed her throat and he pulled out the small box from a cabinet. She knew what he would read when he opened up the napkin, and could only hope it would be enough to convince him.

_Boone,_

_If you're reading this, it means the Legion found me out. Maybe they caught me turning on the Securitrons, or maybe one of the fights I tried to cause between their officers went wrong. I'm either dead or in a bad state right now, but it's a risk I had to take. Tell House I'm sorry I fucked up, but he'll have to attack the Legion full-on. I guess I won't see you again. I'm sorry about that._

Boone's voice was soft when he finished reading.

"This doesn't prove anything."

"Maybe not. How about the fact that I didn't take advantage of your back being turned just now to reach for a gun and shoot you?"

He whipped around to face her, but she was empty-handed, with her arms crossed.

"You were wrong, Boone. I didn't think you were stupid- not before this, anyway. I promised I'd go with you to Bitter Springs and I will, but I don't want to hear one fucking word about being a traitor or a liar again. Is that understood?"

Boone couldn't meet her gaze but nodded, crumpling up the napkin in his hand.


	8. Chapter 8

Self-doubt was never something the Courier had to worry about, even in her worst moments. She knew exactly what she was- a flirt, a tease, the sort of woman who narrated torch songs. She didn't bother concealing her nature from men, and still they fell for her; if they were going to offer her such an advantage, who was she to refuse? It might not have been nice, but it couldn't be considered worse than any other sort of attack.

But while she knew who she was and how she operated, she couldn't say the same of her gunslinger. She knew he'd been a soldier, had a falling out, lost his wife, and dedicated his life to revenge. Oh, and she also knew that on two separate occasions he'd lashed out violently at her when he thought she'd tricked him, only to gnaw at himself with guilt afterwards.

She probably couldn't trust him to take her alone into the mountains. But then, it was nice for the Courier to know one man she couldn't predict.

"Canyon 37. Do you know what happened here?"

The Courier surveyed their destination, a picturesque spot of red rock indistinguishable from any other picturesque red rock.

"The Khans say one thing, Manny says another, Bitter Root says something else. I know a lot of people died."

"Women, kids, the elderly. They ordered us to fire until we were out of ammo, thinking we would come across the main force. We followed orders, and no one stopped to admit the mistake until it was too late."

The Courier sat down on a rock, biting her lip. Boone continued, looking out at the ground below.

"It's easy to know what you shouldn't have done. It's harder to say what you should have done instead."

"I hear you."

Boone turned back to her, examining her face as if looking for judgement of some kind. The Courier offered him a shrug in return.

"I'm not a soldier, Boone. I don't even obey half the shit House tells me to do. If you're looking for someone to tell you that it was or wasn't your fault-"

"-It shouldn't be you. I get it. That's not why we're here."

Boone dumped his backpack on the ground with a sigh.

"I thought if I could have it all together in one place, it might start to mean something. You, me, Bitter Springs, anything. I thought it might make sense if I put it together."

"Not sure I follow."

"You don't have to. There's more I need to-" Boone broke off and started unpacking his things. "I need more time to think, if that's okay. I'm staying the night. I won't make you if you don't want to."

Damn that boy, always cutting himself off when he started to get interesting. The Courier unrolled her own sleeping bag, wondering why he'd even bothered giving her a choice.

Of course she couldn't stay asleep for more than a few minutes at a time. The Courier may have lived the rustic life in her travels before, but sleeping on House's feather beds had spoiled her and gotten her accustomed to a certain degree of comfort. After a few attempts at finding a position where the gravel didn't poke through her bedding, she gave up and just stared at the starry sky.

Quietly, she hummed to herself and thought about her situation. Both the men she was currently involved with could be classified as mass murderers. Granted, she was only toying with one of them, but how long could she keep it going before he realized? Her plans aside, the longer she played him, the more danger she put herself in.

And if things went bad, all of New Vegas would say it was her fault.

_Put the blame on Mame, boys,  
Put the blame on Mame!  
Mame she started to shimmy shake  
And that's what caused the Frisco quake..._

The Courier looked toward Boone, to see if her humming had disturbed his rest. He wasn't lying down, though; instead, he stood by a ledge staring down the canyon.

"Can't sleep either?" she called to him. For a moment, she thought he wasn't going to answer.

"Carla..." he said finally. "I told you about Bitter Springs. I didn't tell you that God or fate or karma or who knows what has had it out for me since then."

The Courier stretched as she stood up, going to join him.

"Blaming yourself for Carla? I'd figured it was Jeannie's fault."

"I told you she was dead, didn't I? Jeannie didn't do that, and those Legion bastards didn't either. But I couldn't even rescue her right."

"What do you-"

Boone turned to face the Courier full-on.

"I got there too late. She was being auctioned off. The block was surrounded by soldiers, I never could have reached her. They were bidding on her, didn't care that she was crying and begging them to let her go. No woman should have to live through that."

"Oh."

She'd been afraid his past would turn out to be something like this. What could she possibly say in response? She doubted he would take pity if she offered it, and she wasn't sure she would; he wasn't the one who'd been murdered by the one he loved.

"You know what I am, then," said Boone. "What I've done. I didn't think it was wrong. I thought it was saving her. She wouldn't have lived through it, I was sure. And then I met you."

So that's where he was going with this. Better him than her- she would have had to bring it up if he didn't.

"I lived. And I didn't consider it a fate worse than death."

He nodded.

"The situations aren't really the same. I wasn't being sold into a lifetime of slavery, for one. For another, I made you the offer in the first place. It was under what you might call duress, though, so the point still stands."

"If I were you," Boone said, "I wouldn't get too close to me. I end up hurting everyone I touch. I've done it to you already, and if you care about me, it just means it'll hurt worse when it happens again."

The Courier raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe I should be the judge of that. I forgave you for what happened in Novac. Your freak-out this evening was scary, but it didn't hurt me. With the right precautions, we might be able to avoid anything else."

"Precautions? With a murderer and a fucking rapist?"

"Other people I've worked with have included a schizophrenic monster mutant and a member of a fascist secret society. We have problems, Boone, but my being scared of you isn't one."

She took him by the arm, holding tight when he tried to shake her off.

"You've told me what you are. Okay. I'm a manipulative cocktease gambling with the fate of the entire Mojave. My motives are good, sure- I want to wipe out the Legion and get some kind of stability for the rest of us- but I'll be the first to admit I'm a real bitch about the way I'm doing it. I can forgive you for what you did because I'm not one for moral absolutes, and even if I think you had no right to make that choice for Carla, no right at all, all it means is that you're a fucked up person and so am I and together we are going to save the Mojave!"

The Courier had to take a long breath after her tirade. Boone wasn't even looking at her anymore, but was turned back to Bitter Springs, raising his scope to see more clearly. Before she could ask him if he'd listened to a word she said, he indicated for her to be quiet.

"That's Legion red," he whispered. "I can see it. We picked a hell of a night to come here- I think they're about to start a raid!"

The immediate sounds of shouting and gunshots confirmed his statement.

"I'm going in," he said. "I'm no match for them, and I'm probably going to die. I won't ask you to come with me- you can go home and play your games with Legionaries. I hope it works out great."

He loaded his gun.

"If I don't see you again, thanks for coming out here tonight."

Boone started moving down the canyon, and the Courier only had a split second to make her decision. A direct assault against a raiding party would ruin everything, even if it wasn't suicidal. All her plans had relied on Legion trust, on working from behind the scenes. It would take some serious improvisation to work an open battle into those plans.

"I really hate moral absolutes," she growled as she followed Boone into the fray.


	9. Chapter 9

The Courier was spattered in Legion blood, as if she'd used a knife in combat instead of a gun. It didn't really matter after a while- if you shoot enough people at close range, keeping clean is out of the question. Even her silent sniper had gotten dirty, going point-blank against raiders with little thought for cover. All that mattered was that the two of them had survived, along with most of the refugees, and the Legionaries had fallen.

"You're insane," moaned the Courier. "Don't you ever sit back and wait for battle plans?"

He sat back with what had to have been the first smirk she'd ever seen on his face.

"I didn't hear you offer one."

"I had a plan! It involved playing the top Legionaries against each other and fracturing the group from within!"

"Sorry to fuck things up." Boone took out a pack of cigarettes; another rarity for him. After risking his life on a suicide mission, a little cancer was worth chancing. The Courier snatched one from him, lighting her end with his.

"You underestimate me, honey. It'll take more than a rashly moral action to fuck up my plans. I'll just have to improvise a little." She couldn't really bring herself to scold him after such a victory, no matter how stupid they had both been. She leaned against his body with a contented smile, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Still gonna kiss up to the dog-head?" Boone asked his question in a joking manner, but she knew to take it seriously.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Are you going to give me something to be faithful to?"

She knew he'd heard her, even if it took him a long time to answer.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, are you my man or not?"

She found herself a little surprised at her own words. She hadn't realized she cared quite this much what he wanted out of her; then again, she hadn't realized she was the type to run into rescue situations guns blazing, either.

Boone looked a little surprised as well. His grip on her didn't change, but she could feel his breathing deepen with the rise and fall of his chest.

"I care what happens to you. I mostly like you. I want you, even if I wish I didn't. And after tonight, I think I trust you. I'm not sure what all that adds up to; maybe it's love. It's not like it was with Carla, but I guess it's always different."

"Same here." The Courier kissed him on the cheek, enjoying the feel of his stubble. "And if I'm going to be your girl, why don't we celebrate it? Here. Now. On the field of battle."

This time, Boone was on top of her before she finished making the offer. When she opened her mouth to speak to him again, he silenced her with a kiss. Well, kiss was one way to describe it- another was to say that he mashed his mouth against hers violently, barely allowing her any air. If it was possible to kill with a kiss, this was how to do it. Boone wasn't interested in giving the Courier a sweet death, though, and he let her gasp for breath soon enough.

"You like it rough, right?" His eyes gleamed in the starlight. "Maybe I do too. Let's make this goddamn fun for once!"

Another crushing kiss, and an embrace to knock the rest of the Courier's wind out. She went to undo the straps on her armor, but he pushed her hand aside and did the job himself. Once that was off, Boone went for the thin shirt and pants beneath. He was clumsy and ended up ripping half the buttons off instead of undoing them, but she wouldn't complain. A girl whose boss owned all of New Vegas could afford new clothes.

The Courier stretched her hands above her hand, assuming a teasingly submissive pose. Boone grabbed her wrists, pinning them to the ground. The Courier squealed and kicked lightly; her "struggling" ceased when he kissed her neck, a kiss that turned into a bite halfway through.

Sex with Boone was often rough, but it was the roughness of a man who wanted to get things over with and feel angry while doing so. Tonight's tender cruelty was passionate, a form of foreplay by itself. By the time he'd pulled down her pants, her underclothes were already damp. She might have blushed if her life had left her with any modesty.

He entered her with a shove, and her moan echoed across the canyon. His hands and his mouth were all over her, and she met his grip eagerly. To know such desire still existed in her gunslinger was one thing; to know he truly desired her, outside of simple desperation, hatred or guilt- that was satisfying. Perhaps all their bouts of joyless tumbling before had been a tease to her- but then, if she could dish it out, she could also take it.

Any words she tried to say to him turned incoherent as the rhythm of his body increased. For a moment she wanted to ask him to stop, with the pressure and sensation building inside her growing too much to handle. But the risk of missing what he gave her was too much, and she bit down on her tongue to keep from screaming or stopping herself.

The Courier's orgasm shook her from head to toe, and Boone's followed soon after. They fell side by side on the canyon floor, bodies raw and shining with sweat.

"You okay?" he whispered.

"Okay? Hell, I'm much more than that." She kissed Boone on the cheek, gently and tenderly. "And I don't think this'll interfere with my work on the Legion at all. As a matter of fact, I think you just helped the cause."

***

When Vulpes Inculta returned to his tent that night, he found the Courier curled up in the corner, covering her body with a blanket. She flinched when he moved toward her, and would not meet his gaze.

Even seeing her uncharacteristic fear, Vulpes was not prepared for what he saw when he pulled away the blanket. His bride to be was naked save for a torn shirt, and her body was covered in bruises. There were marks on her wrists, breasts and neck, some of bite marks and some shaped like a man's hand. When he looked down, something glistened horribly on her thigh.

"Who?" was all he asked. Her answer was halting and quiet, but did not come as a surprise to him.

"Lanius..."


	10. Chapter 10

She'd told Boone to wait for his shot. That was something snipers were supposed to be good at, but it was a lot to ask of him when in Legion territory. He'd told her before that he would start shooting upon seeing red, no questions asked, but she was only asking him to wait a little while. Surely he could manage that, couldn't he?

Then again, this entire operation was risky. She was counting on a man frequently considered unreadable to behave a certain way; if he doubted her or took a less forward course of action, everything would be ruined. Would his pride and what he considered to be love be enough to see her through?

Vulpes was the man to whom those questions applied, but really, she could haves asked them of Boone just as well.

Lying down inside the tent, wrapped up in fur, the Courier waited for the commotion to start. Vulpes had been tight-lipped when he left her, saying to stay there and not come out again until he told her. He had some things to take care of, it seemed. So far, so good. But why was it taking so long?

Rechecking her plans, the Courier couldn't fault herself. Everything that she could pre-arrange was in place. The camp was mostly empty, with the footsoldiers off running drills. The officers were the ones who remained, tough targets but relatively few in number. She couldn't say whether Caesar himself was there, but several Centurions certainly were. If this worked, she wasn't going in to an operation again without at least a full squad backing her up. And if it failed...best not to think about that possibility.

At long last, she heard a shout through the night air. More shouts followed it, then the sound of mechanical fists and gunfire. It had begun.

***

_When they had the earthquake in San Francisco, back in nineteen six..._

It certainly looked like a earthquake had hit the Legion camp, or a comparable natural disaster. The song had a girl causing it by shaking her hips; it had taken the Courier a little more than that, but she could admire old Mame's spirit.

Legate Lanius was the first to fall. Vulpes had been quick about it- a long-range bullet, so that it would be blamed on an NCR sniper. Legionaries ran after the source of the bullet, dropping everything to avenge their fallen leader. Trouble was, there was another sniper in the desert, perhaps the best sniper the Mojave had ever seen. And what soldiers hadn't ran after the initial bullet were left behind like lambs to the slaughter.

The explosions in the distance gave the Courier some idea of what was going on. Vulpes must have blocked the passage to his hiding place with mines, killing many of those whom Boone had not. He really was stepping up to the task admirably; the Courier hadn't been sure how he would kill Lanius, and had pretty much hoped Vulpes would provide enough chaos for her to improvise.

She'd thought the attack might be a suicide mission, but she probably should have known better. Once Vulpes took out the Legate for her, the battle might as well have been over. With their leader slain, those Legionaries left behind flew into a panic (and the recently enslaved ones took it as their cue to flee.) Thank heavens Caesar hadn't been there to restore order; but then, they could save him for another time.

It was such a small camp, really. When you came right down to it, there were far less soldiers there than one might think. Still, a small number of bodies can scatter blood far and wide enough to make you sick. The Courier lit a cigarette as she stepped among the carnage.

Boone met her at the foot of the camp, alive and in hearty spirits. It was the first time he'd ever kissed her with a smile in his eyes- the first time she'd seen a smile in his eyes at all, come to think of it.

"I might just love you after all," he told her.

"Flatterer. Now we just have to see what's happened to my other suitor..."

They didn't have to worry. Following the bodies of fallen soldiers, the Courier was able to pick her way through the mines and the desert sand to find Vulpes' hideout. He'd planned to make one shot and get out, but circumstances had prevented him from doing so- circumstances being a bullet in his leg. The Courier raised an eyebrow at Boone, who was inscrutable as ever.

It wasn't the only bullet Inculta had taken. One of the Legionaries had caught him in the torso, and as decreed by Caesar, Vulpes had no stimpacks to save himself. You could almost feel sorry for him.

His eyes fluttered open for a moment- could he register the Courier's face, or was the strangled cry he emitted not directed at anyone in particular? Whoever he thought she was, it was her name that his lips were trying to form.

"Tell it to Nipton," replied the Courier. "You have no heart to break." With that, she took her gunslinger by the arm and turned her back on the Legion forever.


End file.
